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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774047">for we will be wicked and we will be fair</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira_katrine/pseuds/kira_katrine'>kira_katrine</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabbles, Gen, Inspired by Music, Vignettes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:27:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28774047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira_katrine/pseuds/kira_katrine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All the lost girls, who came out of the rain<br/>And chose to go back on the shelves...</p>
<p>Or did they?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>for we will be wicked and we will be fair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was inspired by the song Wicked Girls by Seanan McGuire <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1DQx7iF-yOc">(youtube link)</a>, which I've always associated with Doctor Who and these characters in particular.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>1.</strong> <em>'they say she grew up and grew old, Peter Pan couldn’t save her'</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Perhaps, somewhere in 1939, was Wendy Darling.</p>
<p>She’d be all grown-up by then. <em> Grown with a child of her own, </em> Amy thought, trying to ignore the pang in her chest at the thought of the baby girl she’d so briefly held in her arms. Neverland far behind her, feeling as much like a dream as Amy knew it really was--</p>
<p>But if Amy’s own childhood dream had been real--<em> then why the hell not? </em></p>
<p><em> Maybe I’ll meet her someday, </em> Amy thought, sitting down in front of her typewriter. Perhaps their adventures wouldn’t stay consigned to the pages of a book.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>2.</strong> <em>'and freedom’s a fairytale lie'</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Martha’s old life was nothing but a story.</p>
<p>It was a story of time and space, a man as unbelievably magical as Harry Potter--but he’d been real. <em>He had to be.</em></p>
<p>A story of loneliness, too, even by his side. One she hadn’t told anyone but herself--and even that only just.</p>
<p>And it was a story of hard work, compassion, curling up with a good book. A story of love--not just for him, but for the family that made Martha who she was. The family she was fighting for.</p>
<p>Perhaps <em> nothing </em> wasn’t right--the story was everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>3.</strong> <em>'they say she got tangled and tied in the lies that became her'</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Clara never <em> fell </em>. No, she jumped.</p>
<p>She leapt into the Doctor’s timestream, not knowing, hardly caring how she’d get out again. Scattered across the universe, she saw--she <em> became </em>--endless impossible things. </p>
<p>She flung herself into adventure, over and over, and even when she stumbled, when she stood at the edge of something deep and dark--</p>
<p>--even when she found herself in a place called Heaven, but which could only have been hell--</p>
<p>--even as she walked the twisted streets of a hidden, mad world whose rules she’d been so sure she understood--</p>
<p>--no, Clara Oswald thought. She never fell.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>4.</strong> <em>'they never once asked to go back to their lives'</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Donna looked so <em> happy </em>.</p>
<p>Telling stories of the past and the future. Flirting with Jack. Laughing with the rest of them, as she helped pilot the TARDIS almost as if she’d been doing it all her life. Knowing that she--Donna Noble, the ordinary woman, the temp--had saved them all. Knowing she belonged there just as much as any of them--<em> how far she’d come </em>.</p>
<p>But the nagging feeling in the back of Rose’s mind said it was too good to last.</p>
<p>It had to be. It always was. And everyone there surely knew it.</p>
<p>Everyone, perhaps, but Donna.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>5.</strong> <em>'it’s better to fly, and it’s better to die'</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The woman long known as Me used to think she’d seen it all.</p>
<p>She thought she’d seen every outcome the Doctor left in their wake. Some were warriors or healers, scientists or artists. Others were ghosts, lost to death or time or memory--things Me knew too well and hardly at all.</p>
<p>“The TARDIS has decoded the message--well, mostly.” Clara’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Someone called… Bill?”</p>
<p>“A new one.” At one time, Me would have been pleasantly surprised to see something new. But since she’d joined Clara, she’d realized how much more was out there--even for her.</p>
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